


Fortunate Son

by QueenHarleyQuinn



Category: Warcraft (2016), World of Warcraft
Genre: Activist Taria, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - 1960s, Alternate Universe - Vietnam, Angst, Drinking, Drug Use, Hippie Khadgar, Hippies, Journalist Taria, LionTrust, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, PTSD, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Soldier Lothar, Vietnam War, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-07-28
Packaged: 2018-07-19 05:00:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7346035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenHarleyQuinn/pseuds/QueenHarleyQuinn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>**HIATUS**<br/>"If anyone has witnessed and felt loss at it’s deepest and darkest, it was Anduin Lothar. When you spend enough time in Vietnam watching boys enter the jungle and leave as men in a pine box you stop making friends. And when you return home you continue with the same isolated attitude…Until a brown-eyed hippie shows you why you were wrong."</p><p>Title: Fortunate Son - Creedence Clearwater Revival</p><p>* Tags will be updated as the story progresses<br/>* Mature Rating due to explicit content in later chapters</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. “Drums keep pounding a rhythm to the brain.”

**Author's Note:**

> I've been pumped about this fic idea for a little while now and I'm super excited to be sharing it with you all! I'm doing my best to keep things historically accurate but if any history buffs notice something wrong please let me know! I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Chapter Title: The Beat Goes On - Sonny and Cher

“Taria, this is ridiculous.” Lothar said, watching his sister braid her ever growing hair. When he hugged her goodbye a few years earlier it was a bit past her shoulders. Now it nearly reached her hips. He could hardly believe that so much could change with her in the time that he was gone.

He flicked through her record collection, searching for something that wouldn’t make his blood boil. In a pile were albums upon albums of stupid kids singing about a war they weren’t even apart of.

“Lothar, you promised me that you’d come.” Taria said as she slipped into her sandals. “And stop digging through my stuff.” Lothar turned and looked at Taria. She was wearing some ratty bellbottoms and a sweater with various _Make Love not War_ buttons along the left side of her collar. It mirrored the decorations and medals on Lothar’s dress greens. She reached out and smoothed her hands over his shoulders.

“You just love to see me suffer.”

She raised an eyebrow, “I think you enjoy your own suffering.”

Wearing his service uniform to a hippie gathering probably wasn’t his smartest idea but he couldn’t help that he liked provoking them. It was always so interesting to watch them drop the _peace and love_ act right before yelling at him. His stomach turned at the thought that his sister might cross over to them and would no longer stand by his side and hold his hand when those bums started shouting at him. That one day she’d be the one calling him _baby killer_.

He smiled and shrugged, careful not to crease his uniform. “Maybe just a little.”

They left Taria’s ramshackle apartment and climbed into her baby blue Volkswagen Bug. Lothar barely fit in the passengers seat but Taria refused to ride his motorbike because _that thing is a deathtrap, Anduin_. She was one of the few left who called him by his first name and something about that made him listen to her.

Venice Beach, California was completely different than the small farm town in Oklahoma where they both grew up. Lothar would have taken his father’s place and the farm would have been his until he was recruited by the Army. Taria was set to marry a the son of their Father’s friend but when Lothar left for bootcamp, she left for California. She still hadn’t returned to the farm. When on leave, Lothar returned to his mother and father he pretended as if he didn’t know where on earth she could be.

Venice was as foreign and other-worldly as the moon to Lothar. Even after being on the shores of Vietnam it was still surprising to open the door and see the ocean _right there_. Venice smelled different too. The earthy, sea-water scent was buried under smoke and sweet herb. The first week he had been here Lothar would ask, “Do you smell that?” and Taria would giggle and shake her head, maybe calling him a naive farm boy beneath her breath. His flower child little sister calling _him_ , the soldier, naive was so completely laughable.

The way Taria drove was foreign and other-worldly too. “Oh yeah, my bike is definitely the _deathtrap_. This bucket of bolts is _completely_ safe.” Lothar spoke with sarcasm as his sister took a sharp corner. Her car wasn’t the fastest but she drove it with fierceness. His comment just pushed her recklessness further as she ran two red lights. “You are insane.”

Taria shrugged and pulled into a parking space that was a short walk from a crowded park. “ _Maybe just a little._ ” She echoed back his words from earlier. Taria exited the car and Lothar sighed. They were here, he had to go through with it. He exited the vehicle.

A man whispered to his girlfriend and glared at Lothar as they walked hand in hand.

Lothar looked at his watch. It hadn’t even taken a minute of him being within 10 yards of the event and people were already talking about him. Hopefully Taria wouldn’t make him stay too long.

“Come on, _Anduin_.” She said softly, extending her hand to him. He took it into his and squeezed it in the same way he did as a child; two quick pulses, mimicking a heartbeat. Taria smiled and squeezed back before pulling him towards the park.

Taria dragged him to different booths and tents, talking with these people like they were all old friends. She signed petitions and posed for pictures and Lothar stood there, feeling completely out of place.

“Where did you get that?” Taria asked a girl who was offering samples of different homemade jams and jellies. She gestured to the floral wreath resting on the girl’s head. Even Lothar had to admit it was rather pretty, borderline angelic looking. Fresh flowers and vines wove this way and that tangling into the long, brunette hair.

“It’s cool isn’t it? Khad makes them! His tent is down a ways.”

“It’s so rad! I’m totally getting one.” Taria said excitedly.

“He might even make one for your Corporal here.” She said with a slight smirk. “He looks like he could use a little flower power.” She gave them more detailed directions to find Khad and then they were off.

 

* * *

 

_This has to be the guy_ , Lothar thought as he eyed the boy. He couldn’t be a day over nineteen with that babyface and hint of a mustache. His hair wasn’t as long as a lot of the other guys Lothar had seen today but it was curling around his ears, maybe long enough to put into a small ponytail. A _really_ small ponytail. He worked shirtless as he braided flowers together. A small trail of hair began at his bellybutton and traveled down beneath his jeans. 

“Are you Khad?” Taria asked and Lothar averted his gaze, focusing instead on tree the boy was resting against. It was easier this way.

The boy nodded and smiled, “I am. You are…”

Taria sat on the grass, in front of Khad. “Taria. This is my brother, Lothar.” She pointed to Lothar who just gave a kurt nod. Khad’s smile changed from generally pleasant to amused.

“I wouldn’t think this would be your scene, man.” Khad said as he took in Lothar’s uniform. Khad had seen enough soldiers but none that could fill out the dress suit so nicely. 

“And what do you think my _scene_ would be, _man_?”

Taria smacked her brother’s leg. “Lothar!”

Khad laughed. And with that laugh he wormed his way under Lothar’s skin quicker than should have been possible. “It’s no biggie, Taria. He’s just doing what he’s been trained to do.” The way he said _trained_ made Lothar’s skin crawl. He wasn’t a circus monkey, he was a person like everyone else in this park.

“Oh? What have I been trained to do? Enlighten me.”

Taria held her hands up between the two of them, “Enough.”

“I’m sorry, that was rude of me.” Khad apologized and Lothar figured it was more for Taria’s sake than anything else. “Um…Can I interest you in a flower crown?”

“Yes, actually.” Taria said as she opened her handbag and pulled out a few dollar bills.

Lothar was fully expecting the boy to snatch the money up but was surprised to see him gently push Taria’s hand way. “No. Consider it a gift.”

Khad asked what her favorite colors and flowers were before walking into his tent. Taria looked up at her brother, “Lothar I’m-“

“Don’t worry about it, Taria. I should be getting used to it by now.” Lothar said as he looked out at the groups of people nearby. He could never fit in with them.He was a _murderer_ in their eyes and there would be nothing he could do to change that. Lothar barely understood why Taria stuck with him.

Khad returned with a handful of flowers including pink sweet peas and white wax flowers. He returned to his blanketed spot beneath the tree and spread the flowers out. He and Taria chatted as Lothar watched those slender fingers begin to braid and chain the flowers together. In areas where braiding didn’t suffice Khad used a spool of green thread to tie the stems. It was kind of hypnotic watching Khad work.

When he had finished he placed the halo atop Taria’s head and bowed slightly, still seated. “It is done, my queen.”

Taria beamed and looked to Lothar, “What do you think?”

Lothar smiled, “You look beautiful.” She really did look regal with the crown on her head. She wore it with grace and Lothar nearly bowed to her as well.

“It’s so cool, Khad. Thank you!” Taria said as she hugged Khad. Lothar grumbled, not exactly keen on the idea of his little sister hugging a shirtless boy.

“I’m glad you dig it.” Khad smiled. He stood up and approached Lothar with an extended hand “I’m sorry about before, man. You think we can keep it copacetic?”

Lothar stared at the boy in front of him for a moment before feeling his sister’s eyes on him. _Shake his hand_ , she mouthed. Lothar bit his lip, “Yeah, sure.” He shook Khad’s hand maybe with a slightly firmer grip than usual. Khad didn’t seem too intimidated, he just grinned.

When Taria stood Khad dropped Lothar’s hand and turned to her. “You should come to my friends jam session tonight. Bring Lothar if you want.” Lothar groaned internally. _Say no, Taria. Say no_.

“I’d love to but I have some writing to do. Another time.”

“Another time,” Khad echoed, kissing her on the cheek. Lothar clenched his fists. “Keep the faith.” 

“Come on, Taria. It’s time to go.” Lothar said as he dragged his sister away. He didn’t need to see this guy make a move on his sister. Khad was lucky that he was still breathing and that Lothar hadn’t pulverized him.

 

* * *

 

“Lothar, you are acting like a child.” Taria said as she drove them home. “He kissed my cheek, it meant nothing.”

“You guys don’t even know each other! What business does he have kissing you.” Lothar said as he slumped into the passenger’s seat. His arms were crossed and he was pouting but he refused to admit that any of his actions were childlike.

“Lothar, it was my _cheek_! Quit buggin’.”

Lothar groaned and rubbed his face, “I get that you’re a journalist but could you ditch the hippie thing? I don’t like it.”

“Too bad. I’m an activist _and_ a journalist, Lothar.” She sighed as she parked her car. Taria cut the engine and turned to Lothar. “I love you but just chill out.”

“Fine.” Lothar said as he rolled his eyes. He opened the door of her bug and let out a deep breath. Taria was a grown woman, as much as he hated to admit it. She was kindly letting him live with her because he couldn’t handle the way their mom looked at him (like a dead man walking). The least he could do was let her live her life…and only complain about it minimally.

Lothar followed Taria up the stairs to her apartment. “By the way Khad is coming to dinner in a few days.” Taria muttered as she unlocked and walked through the door.

Lothar froze in the doorway, watching his sister hang her purse on a hook. “What? Why?”

She rolled her eyes at him, “Because he’s nice and I want to be friends with him. And because now I owe him a dollar.”

“Why?” Lothar asked again, still in the doorway.

“Because when he was making my crown he bet me that you weren’t paying attention to what we were saying.” She said over her shoulder as she walked to her bedroom.

Lothar stepped forward and closed the door behind him. The last thing he wanted was this Khad kid coming into his, and his sister’s, life. He had said that he’d try to keep things ‘copacetic’ but he hadn’t realized that Khad actually meant it or that he’d be seeing the boy again soon. What else had he and his sister been talking about while he was watching those deft hand?

“Hey, wait! What _were_ you guys saying?” Lothar asked as he made his way to the kitchen. Taria stopped and looked over her shoulder smiling.

“Nothing much. Don’t worry about it, _Anduin_.” She said and disappeared into her room. Lothar sighed and opened the fridge. Things would be better if he just forgot about it all and had something to eat. And something to drink.

 

* * *

 

_She wore pink flowers in her hair as blood trickled out of her mouth. She smiled as she fell into Lothar’s arms. A baby screamed and bullets ripped past him. “Thank you.” she said before her eyes turned black._

_“Lothar,” It was his sister’s voice but not her face._

_“Lothar,” The earth shook with his name. He was destroying this place._

“Lothar,” Taria shook his shoulders and he opened his eyes with a gasp. His eyes were frantically scanning the room, his heartbeats sounding like dropping bombs in his own ears. “Lothar, it’s me. You’re okay.”

His breath stilled as he looked her over, afraid that he had started to act out his dreams rather than _talking_ them out. “I- I’m sorry.” Lothar said, looking into his sister’s wide eyes. He hated scaring her like this. He hated how she put on a brave face and he had to pretend like he couldn’t see through it.

“It’s okay, Anduin.” She said. Taria started rubbing his back, “Go back to sleep,” She paused. “Are you sure you won’t go to the doctor?”

Lothar nodded and smiled weakly, “They’re just dreams, Taria. They can’t hurt me.” His words didn’t sound very convincing but he hoped that his sister would let it go. Taria nodded and kissed his forehead.

“You can always change your mind.” She whispered before leaving his room. He gave a half-smile at his hippie sister because no, he was too stubborn. He could never change his mind.


	2. “When I first met you boy you didn't have no shoes”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title: (I'm not your) Steppin' Stone - The Monkees  
> ^ I kind of took some liberties with the title because the actual lyric is "When I first met you girl you didn't have no shoes" but it just fit too well with this chapter so *shrugs*

Lothar didn’t mind being a grease monkey. It was as natural to him as yawning or sneezing. He didn’t really have to try to be a mechanic, he just _was_ one. Tighten some bolts here, put a few spark plugs there, lather, rinse, repeat. He had some practice repairing tractors and trucks back on the farm and he knew enough about bikes to fix his motorcycle but other than that it just made sense. It was easy.

He thinks that maybe if he hadn’t been in that godforsaken jungle for so long that he might have wanted this as a living. Maybe he could even _like_ doing it but Lothar didn’t feel that he was capable of liking much of _anything_ , anymore.

With a wrench in hand Lothar tightened the bolts of a hubcap that had to be replaced. Llane coughed behind him, dragging Lothar away from his thoughts. “Mm?” Lothar grunted, still tightening away. Starting a minute ago, it refused to screw in any further but that didn’t stop Lothar.

“Don’t think that hubcap is going anywhere. Besides, you were good to clock out five minutes ago.” Llane said, packing his tools up for the day. Llane was Lothar’s co-worker, and possibly his only friend besides Taria (who probably didn’t count as a friend-friend anyway because she was his sister). They had met at a bar and when Llane saw the military uniform he asked Lothar if he wanted a job at his father’s garage. Only later did Lothar learn that he had taken the place of Llane’s older brother who died in Vietnam five months prior to his own deployment. He avoided wearing his uniform around Llane after that. Lothar couldn’t stop thinking about how that could have been him in a grave somewhere. Legs blown off, flesh turned red from infection.

Lothar set aside his tools and peeled off his work gloves, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. “Taria told me to invite you over for dinner.” Lothar said as he stood from his crouching position, giving his back a twist and a satisfying _crack_.

Llane smiled and Lothar tried to ignore it. It wasn’t exactly a secret that Llane liked his sister. _It could be worse_ , Lothar thought _, he could be one of those communists she’s always hanging with._ He didn’t completely hate the idea of _Llane_ dating Taria… He just completely hated the idea of anyone dating Taria. Llane was a good guy though, so Lothar wasn’t planning on murdering him anytime soon.

“Sure. I’ll be there.” Llane said and Lothar rolled his eyes at the forced casualness.

“Bring her flowers or something. She’ll like that.” Lothar said and Llane’s face went pink. Lothar laughed and patted Llane on the back as he passed him. Taria was a roman candle among firecrackers. Good luck to any man who tried to make time with her. Secretly, he had a bit more faith in Llane than in her past boyfriends but Llane didn’t have to know that. Why ruin the fun, right?

 

* * *

 

Lothar was riding home. Or, more accurately, waiting for a painfully slow traffic light to shift from red to green, when his cheek suddenly _stung_. He swiped at the spot with his wrist. No blood but it was definitely going to bruise. He was pelted once again, this time skimming his ear.

Lothar turned his head and, unsurprisingly, saw two protestors. Lothar was wearing civilian clothes - jeans, his work shirt and a leather jacket - so his military haircut must have given him away. Of course.

Before they could throw another stone, Lothar pulled over to the corner they were on. They flashed their ‘End The War’ signs at him and he grinned like a hungry lion. _Throw another rock at me, come on, give me a reason to kick your ass._ Lothar squeezed the handle of his bike and growled along with the engine.

“Dudes quit it, not everyone with cropped hair is a-“ The voice stopped as soon as it started. “Um. Well, this guy is a soldier but, still, you can’t just throw rocks people.” Walking down the street, thankfully with a shirt on this time, was Khad. Lothar glared at him and Khad stared back with a look that said _I’m trying to help, you idiot_. It was hard to take this overgrown puppy dog of a boy seriously.

“Back off, Khad.” Lothar said as he adjusted the kickstand. His motorcycle shouldn’t be on the pavement like this but he didn’t care. He hadn’t been in a good fight in awhile, so today could be his lucky day.

The two other hippies looked from Khad to Lothar and then at each other. “Let’s bail, man.” One said to the other, spitting at Lothar for good measure. Lothar flipped them off in return. _Cowards_ , he thought.

“You okay?” Khad asked and only then did Lothar notice that the boy was holding a brown paper bag and didn’t have any shoes on. Los Angeles may boast ‘warm and sunny weather’ all year but they were in winter right now and shoes were generally necessary for life’s daily activities. 

Lothar ignored Khad’s question; he was a soldier, it would take more than a few pebbles to put him down. “Where are your shoes?” He asked instead.

Khad looked down like he hadn’t even realized that he had been barefoot. He wiggled his toes. “I dunno. Maybe at the beach or something.” Lothar saw his red, teary eyes and knew exactly what was in that paper bag.

“Are you high?” It was a stupid question. Of course Khad was high, people like him were always high. Lothar was no saint but he didn’t walk around inebriated all of the time, either. He wasn’t a burnout.

Khad shrugged, “Generally, yeah. Are you?”

“What? No.”

“Well, there’s your problem, man.” Khad said with a wicked smile. He held out the paper bag to Lothar, “Want one? They’re brownies. Or we can save them for after dinner tonight.”

Lothar’s eyes widened. “What?”

Khad laughed, “Dinner. After lunch, before dessert.” He shook the paper bag, “This would be the dessert.” Khad’s giggle and smile were too bright for Lothar to handle. He hadn’t thought that _that_ dinner was happening tonight. Having to see the hippie twice in one day must be some form of punishment for his sins. Lothar shrugged internally - he probably deserved it. 

The boy finally looked at the blue and gold motorcycle and whistled. He turned his attention back to Lothar. “Hey…Can I catch a ride with you?”

Typical. He eyed the boy’s bare feet again and then the rest of him- not the ideal outfit for riding. He didn’t trust the kid to show up at Taria’s in one piece so he might as well just give him a lift. She’d murder Lothar if he had said no, anyway.

Lothar jerked his head up and to the side, “Hop on.” Khad straddled the bike and wrapped himself around Lothar. The soldier ignored the warmth that was seeping into his back. He ignored the sickly-sweet scent of Khad’s breath.

“This okay?” Khad asked, somehow managing to scoot even closer. Lothar revved the engine in response and tried not to squirm. Khad’s breath hitched as tires squealed off the pavement.

 

* * *

 

 

“Where are your shoes?” Taria asked, after releasing Khad from a hug.

“Why do people keep asking that?” He asked, plopping himself down on the couch, picking up a book ( _The Hobbit_ , was it?) from the coffee table. He looked too comfortable there for Lothar’s liking but Taria just smiled fondly before returning to the kitchen. Lothar followed behind her, heading to the fridge to grab a beer.

Hearing that _pop-fizz_ of the cap leaving the bottle instantly relieved his tension from the ride over here. “So where’d you find him? And why do you have a bruise?” Taria asked, pulling the chicken out of the oven.

Lothar leaned against the fridge, sipping on his beer. “Some dicks were trying to pick a fight with me and-“

“And I saved him from getting thrown into jail for the night.” Khad said, flipping the page of the book. Lothar frowned.

“You did not save me.”

“I did.”

“Did not”

“Did.” Khad smiled and flipped another page. Lothar wondered how he could hold a conversation and read at the same time. It was mildly infuriating. The boy was munching on another brownie, so it was entirely possible that he wasn’t reading at all.

Lothar tossed the cap of his beer bottle at the boy and it landed on his chest. Without even looking up Khad threw it back and it landed somewhere in the kitchen. _Weak aim_ , Lothar thought and smirked.

Lothar did laps around the kitchen as Taria buzzed from the stove, to the oven, to the fridge, to the sink and back again. Every time he settled against one surface she shooed him to another until finally there was a knock on the door. He sipped on his beer as she pushed carrots around in a pan. She poked him with the handle of the wooden spoon. “Go answer it.”

It was Llane, of course, and he was holding a bouquet of daisies. “You shouldn’t have.” Lothar said and Llane frowned. He pushed past Lothar.

“They’re not for you.” Llane said, standing next to their small breakfast table that wasn’t exactly in the kitchen but wasn’t exactly in the living room. He adjusted one of the stems and Lothar rolled his eyes. _He actually bought her flowers_ , Lothar thought, _he’s whipped_.

“Well go on, give her the flowers, man.” Khad said from the couch and Llane jumped, apparently not realizing that there was another person with them.

“Who are you? Where are your shoes?”

“I’m Khad. Is that the question of the day or something?” He asked through a mouthful of brownie.

“Most people wear shoes, Khad.” Lothar said. He nodded in Llane’s direction, “This is Llane by the way.” Llane waved and proceeded to the kitchen. Khad and Lothar watched Llane fumble with the flowers like a little boy. Lothar looked away when Taria pecked Llane on the cheek. Khad snickered - at the love birds or at him, Lothar didn’t know.

Taria started setting food on the table, “Alright guys, let’s eat.” Taria sat across from Llane, leaving Khad and Lothar to sit across from each other. _That’s better than sitting next to him, I suppose_ , Lothar sighed to himself. 

Dinner was surprisingly good. Taria’s cooking was great, as usual, but Lothar found that he didn’t want to strangle Khad the _entire_ time, just most of the time. But having him there was marginally better than being a third wheel to his sister and Llane.

“I didn’t think he could eat that much.” Llane said in horror, watching Khad as he devoured a _third_ plate of food. Lothar had stopped being in shock after the second plate, when Khad belched and squeaked out a small ‘excuse me’.

“Munchies.” Taira and Lothar replied in unison.

“Jinx!” Taria called out and her brother huffed out a laugh. Khad had an impish grin, his eyes still hazy.

Khad licked his finger, tongue darting out to capture the seasoning from the chicken. Lothar looked away and shifted in his seat. He couldn’t stop his eyes from glancing at Khad once more. Maybe he was just imagining things but as Khad took the tip of his finger into his mouth again he stared Lothar down. Lothar stood and carried his plate to the sink.

It was the beer. That could be the only explanation as to why he was so acutely aware of every single one of Khad’s actions. Khad hadn’t been staring at him, it just _felt_ like he was. Or maybe he had been staring at Lothar. Maybe being obscene just made Khad laugh. Lothar scrubbed the plate with more force, removing the grease from the ceramic and the grime from his thoughts.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and his entire body tensed. “I think it’s clean, man.” Lothar shrugged the boy’s hand off of his shoulder and left the plate in the sink. Khad raised his eyebrows but said nothing as Lothar stomped off to his room.

“He…He gets like that sometimes.” Taria whispered after she heard her brother’s door close. Taria had adapted to his mood swings. They weren’t often but she could usually tell by the way his breath quickened or how it seemed like he was looking through her. Sometimes the smallest things would set him off - a fork hitting a plate, a sneeze. Today it must have been Khad’s hand on his shoulder.

Llane simply nodded and held her hand. Khad wouldn’t meet her eye.

 

* * *

 

 

Smoke thickened whispers drifted under Lothar’s door as he tore off his shirt. The smoke curled around him, suffocating him. He held his breath until his lungs weighed down like lead. When he gasped for air the smoke crawled inside him.

Lothar caught his reflection in the mirror and tried to still himself. He breathed in - _I’m fine_. Breathed out - _It’s okay_.

As he looked into the mirror he started counting his scars. One on the outside of his right bicep when shrapnel carved off a shred of skin. Another long jagged one ran up his calf and tucked away behind his knee thanks to a close call with a stake pit. Lastly, the one that sent him home - a bullet dug into his abdomen. The shot wasn’t enough to be fatal but just enough to keep him on his ass for several months before they shipped him him back to the states. Every now and again it still hurt like a bitch.

He ran a finger over the healed spot, above his belly button and to the left. Right now was one of those ‘it hurt like a bitch’ moments.

Lothar turned away from the mirror and laid on his bed, listening for the click of the front door closing, the sounds of Llane and Khad saying goodbye to his sister. As soon as the left he would go take a shower. For the time being he he picked up a half stale bottle of beer.

When he was sure that Llane and Khad were gone Lothar exited his room and crossed to the bathroom. In the shower he scrubbed his skin raw. It always felt as though there was a permanent layer of dirt and sweat and blood just under his flesh. He could feel bugs crawl between his veins.

It was an out of body experience when he twisted the knob to shut off the water. He saw himself drying off and slipping into pajamas. He stared into his own eyes when he brushed his teeth. He felt like he was on the other side of the mirror, trapped behind the glass.

A loud snore that definitely wasn't Taria’s snapped him out of it. He opened the bathroom door slowly and checked the hallway before finally looking to the couch. Khad was sleeping, in all his blitzed out glory. Which really meant that he was sprawled on the couch, still clutching Taria’s worn copy of _The Hobbit_. His hair was sticking in every direction and his mouth was hanging open. 

_He twitches his nose in his sleep_ , Lothar thought.

Lothar pushed the thought away and retreated into his bedroom. Hopefully the boy would be gone in the morning.


	3. "So happy together"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title: Happy Together - The Turtles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part of me feels like I should wait to upload this chapter but oh well. Fuck it. I hope everyone enjoys lol

Khad wasn’t gone in the morning. But he was making breakfast, so Lothar couldn’t complain. Lothar sipped on coffee, dressed and ready for work. Khad fried some eggs and bacon. Khad hummed as the pan sizzled and Taria’s beat up typewriter kept time. 

 

_Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-ka’ching_

_Tap-tap-tap-ka’ching_

_‘Imagine me and you, da-do’_

_‘I think about you day and night, ba-da-dada’_

_Tap-tap-tap_

_Fffttt!_

 

Taria ripped the paper out of the machine and tore it in two. _Tap-tap_ and another rip, this time accompanied by an agonizing groan. Khad slid some eggs and bacon on to a plate and nudged it next to her typewriter. He had tried to make a smiley face - the eggs serving as eyes and the bacon a smile but the meat refused to curve and remained a wiggly line. Taria had a very similar face and Lothar would have laughed if he was sure that she wouldn’t slap him. She chomped on the strip of bacon as she fed a new sheet of paper into the machine.

Khad placed a plate in front of Lothar and and then one for himself. “So,” Khad said, cutting into his egg. “How’s the writing?”

“ _Fabulous_.” Taria fumed. She rested her head in her hands. “They’ve assigned me to the _Ask Betty_ column because the actual Betty got pregnant. As the only other woman on the paper, I’m now responsible for _informing_ house wives on how to ‘ _get rid of those pesky stains’_. Kill me.”

A chill ran down Lothar’s spine, frosting over every vertebra. He couldn’t erase the image of dead woman, still clutching their children to their chests. Except instead of having the face of vietnamese mothers, they all had his sister’s face.

The cold traveled across his arm causing him to drop his fork. Taria grabbed his hand and squeezed it twice. Khad pushed his eggs around on the plate.Wordlessly, Lothar stood and grabbed his keys. 

On his bike, Lothar cut through the wind, his skin cooling even further. Between the freeze of his bones and the icy air clawing at him, Lothar wouldn’t be warm for the rest of the day. When he arrived at the garage he was practically shivering.

 

* * *

 

For the rest of the week Khad became a permanent fixture in the apartment. Lothar had expected him to lounge on their couch and steal his beer but Khad didn’t. He helped set the table for dinner and made breakfast in the morning and only smoked when he thought Lothar was asleep. Lothar thought that most people would call things ‘comfortable’ but he couldn’t remember the last time he had felt that way. He remained on edge.

Good things never last long - Lothar knew that more than he knew anything else. 

 

* * *

 

“Don’t you have a home?” Lothar asked when he returned from work on Friday. 

Taria and Khad were watching _The Twilight Zone_ and Lothar couldn’t help but feel like that’s where he was trapped. He was waiting for Rod Sterling to round the corner and say that this really wasn’t his life. That this was just a small part of a cruel experiment on mankind. On what happens when you introduce peace and domesticity to a man ravaged by war.

“Anduin!” Taria scolded. Lothar dropped his keys on the table and headed towards the fridge.

“I have a place where I rest my head. I wouldn’t call it a home.” Khad said, focusing on one of the bracelets on his arm. Lothar wanted to tear them off and burn them. 

Taria’s hands were on his shoulders. “What’s your deal?” She whispered.

Lothar ignored her. “Then why are you here?” He asked Khad.

“Dunno. Just felt nice, I guess.”

Lothar’s anger disappeared. He let out a deep breath. _Oh,_ was all Lothar could manage to think before he realized that Khad had left the couch and was walking out the door. Lothar’s heart dropped to his stomach as he watched the boy turn the corner and race down the stairs.

“Fuck - Khad,” He called as he chased down the stairs. He felt, more than saw or heard, Taria close behind him. “Khad!” For a dope-head he was fast, but surely not faster than an army man like Lothar.

Lothar ran after him, his muscles remembering the strain of running from explosives and guerrilla attacks. And now, he was sprinting down the sidewalks by Venice Beach chasing after a maddeningly quick hippie. Lothar wondered when his life stopped making sense. Did it ever make sense?

The calf of Lothar’s bad leg was burning, the scar was a lick of flame with every stride. He pushed himself further.

Khad stopped abruptly and Lothar’s brain didn’t have time to send the message to his legs to _stop_. They landed with a hard _thud_ on the pavement. Khad groaned, “You’re heavy.” Lothar’s chest heaved against his, their legs mixed together and their arms spread on the ground. Lothar made to move off of Khad, but the boy pulled him by the shirt, “I didn’t say to get off. Just said you were heavy. You have nice muscles.”

He was concussed. That was the only explanation for the nonsense spilling from his lips. Lothar pried the hands off of his chest and Khad whimpered. Taria knelt down beside them, panting. “Are you okay?” She huffed, sweeping her hair away from her eyes. At the sound of her voice Lothar practically _jumped_ off of Khad. He dusted off his shirt as he stood and then offered a hand to Khad. He ignored the offered and and stumbled to his feet on his own.

“I think he hit his head.” Lothar said, reaching out to keep the boy from falling over again. Khad was mumbling something about ‘pretty blue eyes’ and Lothar felt his cheeks get warm.

Taria smiled. “I see,” She put an arm around Khad’s torso. “Come on boys. Let’s go home.”

 

* * *

 

“I’m not,” Khad wavered for a moment, head tilting back and forth as he searched for the word, “concussed.”

The three of them were crowded in the bathroom because that’s were the first aid kit was kept. Taria sat on the counter, Khad stood in front of her and Lothar was wedged between Khad and the shower. Lothar grabbed Khad’s chin and turned his head side to side.

Taira glared at him. “Quit doing that.”

“I’m checking to see if he’s okay.” Lothar said, still searching for bruises and cuts.

“This bathroom isn’t big enough for both of us to play doctor.” Taria said as she ran her hand over Khad’s scalp. The boy winced when her fingers found the bump.

Lothar was right, Khad was delirious from hitting his head on the concrete. His words outside had meant nothing.

Taria grabbed the icepack and applied it to the back of Khad’s head. Lothar squeezed Khad’s shoulder and tried to remember when he had placed it there. Khad smiled at him, and his eyes struggled to stay open.

Guiding Khad back to the couch proved to be much more difficult than Lothar originally thought. Taria packed the first aid kit before setting off to make a pot of coffee. Lothar placed his hand on the small of Khad’s back but he just sank into Lothar’s arms. Lothar tried righting him but that just made Khad sway and stumble into the wall with a moan. Lothar tried not to focus on the sound that escaped Khad’s mouth and instead focused on adjusting Khad’s arm on his shoulder and his arm around his the boy’s waist.

They wobbled into the living room and crashed onto the couch. Lothar didn’t bother to move Khad off of him, he just scooted so that his leg wasn’t trapped under Khad’s. They were touching shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh. Lothar’s knee was bouncing. Khad nudged it with his own and Lothar stilled.

Khad’s head started lolling to one side and Lothar poked him in the ribs. “Oh, no you don’t. Stay with me, Khad.”

“Okay.” Khad said with a thick and sleepy voice. He played with the icepack until Lothar snatched it and gently applied it to the bump. Taria walked towards them, balancing three cups of coffee.

“This might help.”

Taria drank half a cup before Lothar convinced her that he is fully capable of making sure Khad won’t slip into a coma and _doesn’t she have an article to write anyway?_ “Fine, fine. Let me know if you guys need anything.” She said. As Taria stood and returned to her room, Lothar wondered if he had made the right choice shooing her away.

Lothar stared at the water rings on the coffee table and then at the stains on the carpet and definitely not anywhere near Khad. His stomach was turning and he felt feverish. He licked his suddenly dry lips. “I’m sorry.”

“Hmm?” Khad was sipping on his coffee, one hand still holding the icepack to his head.

“I didn’t mean to make you run away.” Lothar mumbled, his heart hammering in his chest.

“Mmm, don’t worry about it, Lothar.” Khad hummed, still tired and loopy. Maybe they should have gone to the emergency room. “I can leave tomorrow - don’t want to bother you.”

Lothar set his coffee on the table and grabbed Khad’s arms. “You don’t bother me.” It’s jarring, hearing the words come out of his mouth without permission. He retracted his hands, burned by their proximity. Lothar could feel himself being pulled into Khad’s brightness, his glow and it blazed Lothar’s war roughed skin. He couldn’t do this, he couldn’t get close.

He blinked and was surprised to find himself standing in front of Taria’s door, knocking. It swung open, revealing her worried face. “What’s wrong.”

“I…Can you…I can’t-“

She cupped his cheek and Lothar thanked God and every saint he knew. “Go to sleep, Lothar.” Taira said, nodding in the direction of his room.

As he entered his room he could feel Khad’s eyes on him.

 

* * *

 

 

_Brown eyes stare at him, welling with tears. They start salt-water clear but by the time they drop to the ground they are fat scarlet drops. He hears a loud bang and a bright light pulses from the brown eyes. They melt into nothingness._

_“Lothar,” It’s not Taria’s voice._

_“Lothar,” The earth does not shake_

“Lothar,” Khad mumbled and Lothar’s skin prickled at the sight of his eyes. The same brown eyes from his dream. Except this time there are no tears coming from the eyes, just an un readable mix of emotions. Lothar’s throat tightened.

“I…” He didn’t know what to say. His day had been so tumultuous and strange, he shouldn’t have expected his night to go any different.

And then Khad wrapped his arms around him and Lothar stopped breathing. “It’s okay.” Khad said into Lothar’s neck. Lothar’s muscles tensed and froze. Khad pulled away and Lothar bit his lip to keep from saying _no, stay, don’t leave_. “I’m sorry.”

Lothar grabbed Khad’s elbow, rubbing gently with his thumb. He had no words.

Khad pulled away and left him in the darkness of the room.


	4. "Wild thing, I think you move me"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the wait on the update. I wanted to wait until this chapter felt right. Thanks for reading!

Winter melted into spring like lazy ice cubes in a glass of water. It took it’s time. Living in Los Angeles, the change from winter into spring didn’t mean much - it’s not like they had very cool winters to begin with. Lothar was surprised to learn that Los Angeles winter resembled his winter in Vietnam more than it did the _All American White Christmas_ that he had been used to. It was so unlike the middle of nowhere, farm town, freeze-your-ass-off kind of winter Lothar had grown up with.

Here, in Venice Beach, the winter air was barely cold enough to consider _crisp_. Then, with slow grace, it slipped into a spring breeze.

Spring at home meant that there’d be more work on the farm. Spring in Vietnam just meant more innocent kids coming in who tested out of school to join-up. Spring in Los Angeles meant that Lothar had to bat Khad away as the boy tried to weave flowers into his hair. He had half a mind to shave his head but the thought of growing his hair out long wasn’t that unappealing. 

“Come on, man, just one flower!” Khad begged, crawling over Lothar’s lap. He pushed the hippie onto the sand. Beside Khad was a collection of flora that he had been weaving and braiding into wreaths. Spring, also meant more flower crowns made by Khad’s quick and nimble hands. 

Taria laughed from her spot, spread out on the beach towel. Apparently the first weekend of spring meant it was time to start sunbathing again. The temperature was barely above 75 degrees but that didn’t matter. It was March, spring was in full effect. 

They were all in swimming suits despite the fact that it was very obvious that no one would be swimming out there for a few more months at least. Khad pretended not to notice Lothar’s scars and Lothar pretended not to notice Khad.

Generally, Lothar hated being shirtless. The idea of everyone having access to all of his most horrible moments, to all of his near death experiences, was repulsive. He had been through hell and he had spit in the devil’s face as he burned. It made him feel exposed to his very soul.

No longer being able to handle those brown eyes on him, Lothar slid his shirt back on. Khad turned away, the blue flower he had tried to stick behind Lothar’s ear sat limply in his hand.

“So, Lothar,” Taria started, adjusting her sunglasses so she could peer over them and at her brother.

“So, Taria.” Lothar replied, knowing by the tone of her voice that she was going to make him do something that he probably wouldn’t enjoy. 

Something horrible, like modeling Khad’s flower crowns…

“One of Khad’s friends is having a get together-”

Or worse: _Socializing_.

“No.” Lothar crossed his arms. He’d already accompanied her to one hippie gathering this year and did not plan on doing so again. His quota had been filled.

Taria sat up and looked at him and he couldn’t help but notice how much her face mirrored their mother’s. Especially when she started meddling like their mother. “Khad and I are going, you should come too.”

“Why?”

“Because, Anduin, you need to talk to people, make friends.”

“I talk to you two, don’t I?” 

“We don’t count.” Khad chimed in, ridding his hair of sand by shaking his head. Dark locks flew back and forth. _He looks a bit like a puppy_. Lothar shoved that thought far into the back of his mind. 

“What about Llane?” Lothar said, focusing not the waves rushing to the shore and not the boy next to him.

“He doesn’t count either.” Taria said. They were ganging up on him.

Lothar sighed, picking sand out from underneath his nails. Taria and Llane, and now Khad, were plenty for him. He hadn’t even really wanted to be friends with Khad but the boy had nested into his life and Lothar was pretty sure he couldn’t do anything about it. Every time he tried to get rid of Khad, Lothar instantly regretted it. Not that Khad was ever allowed to know that.

“Please, Lothar?” Taria whined, remind him of when they were little.

Khad joined in, “Yeah, please, Lothar?” He was looking at him with big, brown eyes. Now they were just being unfair.

“Just let me be a hermit.” He grumbled, laying down on the sun warmed towel.

“Fine.”

Lothar thought that signaled the end of the conversation. That they weren’t going to do anything to try and force him out of the apartment. Later in the evening he would find that he was _wrong_.

 

* * *

 

Lothar looked from the fridge, to Khad and back to the alcohol barren fridge again.

That bastard. “What do you mean ‘ _The beer is gone_ ’?”

Khad smiled, looking ever so impish. Lothar was going to murder him. “I mean if you want more beer you should come with me and Taria.”

“I bought that beer. With my money.”

“I’ll pay you back, just come with us!” Khad pulled on Lothar’s hand, trying to drag him to the door. It wasn’t working.

“You’re evil.”

“I know, I know. I’m the bane of your existence. Just come out for a little while, Lothar.” Khad said, stepping into Lothar’s personal space. Still holding his hand. When Lothar stepped back he leaned against the dining table. “Please?”

Those stupid brown eyes. “Fine, but I’m taking my bike.”

The boy’s eyes lit up, “Can I ride with you?”

Surely, the first time Khad had asked for a ride from Lothar, it had been out of convenience. This time, however, excitement pulsed out of him, radiated off of him. Khad _wanted_ to ride with Lothar. That was surprising.

Lothar smirked. “Sure, if you think you can handle it.”

“Get a room!” Taria shouted from her bedroom, brushing her long hair. Lothar felt his cheeks get hot and looked away from Khad. The boy huffed out a laugh but Lothar couldn’t find it in himself to chuckle with him.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Taria.” Lothar muttered, making it half way to the fridge before realizing that what he was looking for wouldn’t be there. He sighed. _Tonight is going to be a long night_ , he thought, as he ignored Khad’s stare.

 

* * *

 

 

Khad tightened his arms around Lothar’s waist as Lothar took a sharp corner, grinning. Khad hid his head in between Lothar’s shoulder blades. “Still think you can _handle it_?” Lothar yelled over the engine and the wind. Khad nodded.

“I used to ride.” Khad said, just loud enough for Lothar to hear. Again, Khad managed to surprise Lothar - in fact, the boy seemed to be very good at doing that.

Lothar imagined Khad in snug jeans and a leather jacket, hair combed back, looking like James Dean. His stomach flipped. Lothar almost missed the turn Taria made in front of him her blue Bug. Lothar shoved all thoughts of _Khad in tight pants_ into a box and slapped a lock on it before throwing it into the corner of his brain where he kept things he shouldn’t think about. 

They rode out of Venice, out of Santa Monica and deeper into south Los Angeles wind rushing by them. They weren’t passing _bad_ neighborhoods, exactly. Just places that were a bit rough around the edges. Places that smelled of stale beer and that, if you turned the wrong corner, you could see wives throwing their husbands suits on the unkempt, front lawn. Places where people on the streets eyed the boy on the back of Lothar’s bike. And if anyone stared at Khad too long Lothar may have puffed out his chest, sneering, growling.

“That’s the place.” Khad murmured as Taria parked in front of a small house in a slightly rundown neighborhood. Yellow paint was flaking off of the front of the house, but it seemed nice enough. Other cars parked along the street and people drifted in and out. Lothar parked his bike in front of Taria’s car. Khad hopped off and nearly ran into the house.

Lothar rolled his eyes and sauntered in after him and Taria followed closely behind Lothar.

Music welcomed them before the owners of the house did. Taria waded into the group of people who were half-standing, half-dancing in what _was_ the living room. The furniture had been pushed against the walls to accommodate more people. If any of the seats had been available, Lothar would have taken it. Instead, he waded in after his sister.

She found Khad and the hosts of this party. Get together. Whatever it was. 

“Draka, Durotan - this is Anduin.” Taria said, gesturing to her brother. Lothar was tall, and well built - he had been a soldier, after all. But standing amongst Draka and Durotan he couldn’t help but feel _small_. The feeling was new and alarming to him, to say the least.

“Go'el, you’re so big now.” Khad cooed at the baby in Draka’s arms. Lothar didn’t dare say _what the hell kind of name is Go'el?_ Because if Draka didn’t already look like she could rip him in two, Durotan definitely could. Draka set Go'el into Khad’s arms and Lothar wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen someone so happy to hold a baby that wasn’t theirs.

Lothar ignored the way his heart tightened as he watched Khad play with the baby. He did, however, allow himself to laugh wholeheartedly when Go’el head butted Khad. Twice.

Khad rubbed his forehead with his free hand. “Not cool, man.” The baby pulled on Khad’s shirt in response. Lothar laughed but allowed his eyes to drift elsewhere, beyond the group of people that surrounded him.

Instead, he set his eyes on the girl who walked out of the kitchen. She was tall, but still a bit shorter than Draka and Durotan, right around Lothar’s height. Long hair full of braids and curls and tangles hit at her waist. Her skin was a beautiful coffee brown. 

“Garona!” Taria rushed to her side, wrapping her arms around the girl, _Garona_. She waved Lothar over. “This is Lothar.”

Garona squinted at him, one of her arms still wrapped around his sister’s waist. “She’s told me about you before, Anduin Lothar.”

Lothar smirked at her, “Good things, I hope.” Taria shook her head at her brother and walked back toward Khad. Lothar leaned over Garona, one hand on the wall beside her.

She rolled her eyes. “Mostly.” Her teeth glinted in the light. Lothar reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She growled and smacked his hand away. Somewhere in the background someone was messing with the record player. The record spun idly for a moment before the needle found the grove and sounded out a long, low whine of the guitar. _Wild thing_ , Lothar thought as he chuckled, _appropriate._

 

_Wild thing_

_You make my heart sing_

_You make everything groovy_

_Wild thing_

 

Garona was a wild thing if Lothar had ever seen one. He stepped back, arms folded behind him. “Why don’t you show me where the beer is?”

“Why don’t you find it yourself, _Corporal_. I hear you’re good at hunting things down.” Her words were like a punch to his gut. He was winded, couldn’t breathe right, lungs far too tight. She slipped around him and he leaned his forehead against the wall. _Breathe_ , he commanded himself. _Fucking breathe_.

“Lothar,” Khad whispered, hovering just behind the soldier. Close enough that Lothar could almost feel the boy’s words on his skin, but not quite. Just enough distance between them made Khad’s words a ghost on him. “Lothar, it’s okay.”

_It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay_.

He wasn’t quite sure how it happened but Khad had somehow moved him away from the noise. They sat on hard concrete, shoulder to shoulder outside in the backyard. Lothar was still heaving. He was going to get sick, he was sure of it. He pushed Khad away because he really rather not puke on him but Khad just inched back anyway.

“Lothar, just look at the stars, okay? Just breathe for a second, okay?” Khad rubbed Lothar’s back. He pointed up at the stars, “See there? That’s Ursa Minor. And below it is Ursa Major.” Khad mapped out the night sky. Lothar’s breathing steadied as he focused on the sound of Khad’s voice. The low rhythm of it. He glanced back and forth from the constellations to Khad’s huge, brown eyes. He didn’t feel so sick anymore.

“Thanks.” Lothar said, finally settled down.

Khad bit his lip before he spoke, “Garona has a hard time trusting people.”

Lothar rose his brows, “Really?” His words were slathered in sarcasm. Khad huffed a short laugh.

Khad pulled a tin out of his back pocket and quickly, started to roll a joint. Lothar watched Khad’s nimble fingers as he flipped the lighter, the flame casting a glow on Khad’s hands. Khadgar took a long pull and then, wordlessly, held it to Lothar.

Without thinking, Lothar plucked it from Khad’s fingers and took a quick drag. 

“Shit, I didn’t think you’d actually go for it.” Khad said, voice husky from the smoke.

“Me either.”

He was being honest. Lothar liked his booze, loved his motorcycle and was a proud Vietnam Vet. He wasn’t a pothead. He never had the desire to smoke it or ingest it. But sitting so close to Khad, having just been on the verge of breaking down, he just needed something to take the edge off.

And, God, was it working. The edges had been rounded down, smoothed by herb infused sandpaper. With every drag he felt _better_. Lighter. His war torn heart didn’t feel as jagged. He wasn’t being weighed down by death - the lives he helped it end, his own life that death refused to take.

Well, he was thinking about it again now but he stopped and looked to the stars again. The ones Khad mapped out for him.

“Lothar,” Khad paused, looking down at the ground. “Do you want to get out of here?”

Lothar took another drag and shook his head, “Don’t want to go home.” Though the words were cold his voice felt warm in his throat. 

Khad stole the joint back. Lothar watched with full lungs and a small smile crept onto his face. He let himself stare at Khad’s lips, the way they wrapped around the joint. The joint that had just been between his own lips. “We could go to mine.”

Lothar shrugged and took another hit. “Okay.” 

They traded back and forth until Lothar felt weightless. And then they entered the house again. Lothar froze when he saw Garona and Taria dancing. Intimately. Arms wrapped around one another, foreheads touching. He looked away, his stomach churned. He wasn’t meant to see that. “They’re just dancing, Lothar.” Khad whispered into Lothar’s ear. Lothar nodded. Khad grabbed his hand and squeezed, “C’mon. Let’s bail.”

Everything that he saw next happened in fragments as Khad steered him out of the house.

His sister and Garona. Together.

Garona who had a hard time trusting people, whispering into Taria’s ear. Taria laughing. Taria catching Lothar’s eyes before the door swing closed on them

Lothar felt numb when he lowered himself to the seat of his bike. It was foreign beneath him, like he had never ridden in his life. The frame was awkward between his legs, the leather felt strange. He didn’t even know where to put his feet. 

All Lothar knew was that smoke was curling around his lungs and that Taria was keeping secrets from him.

“Do you want me to…” Khad trailed off, gesturing to the bike. Lothar nodded and they switched places.

Anduin Lothar _never_ let anyone ride his bike. Not very many people had ever asked if they could, but if they had he would have two words for them: _fuck no_.

But there he was, settled _behind_ Khad, wrapping his arms around the kid. He thought of Taria, how she had her arms wrapped around Garona. He tightened his arms as Khad brought the motor to life. They sped out of the development and headed north. The further they travel the more Lothar tried to leave the thoughts of his sister and Garona behind him.

 

* * *

 

“This isn’t an apartment, Khad. It’s a library.” Lothar looked around, taking in the sheer amount of books that claimed every available surface. And then he saw the plants. “And a greenhouse.”

Lothar knew that Khad made flower crowns. So it would make sense for Khad to have a garden of sorts. Lothar just hadn’t really thought about how many plants Khad would actually have. They covered the counter tops, spots on bookshelves, the side tables. The entire place smelled fresh and earthy.

Khad shrugged, flicking on the main lights overhead and then the smaller lamps that hovered over flowerpots. The entire place was illuminated. Khad grabbed a watering can and started _talking_ to his plants. Lothar laughed.

“It’s good for them.” Khad said, drizzling water over some roses.

“Sure it is.” Lothar sat himself onto Khad’s couch. On the coffee table were several books, non-fiction and fiction, and a pot with one single cactus. He resisted the urge to touch the spikes.

Khad rolled his eyes and sat down next to Lothar on the couch. Silence.

“So, are you going to tell me why your apartment is a library?”

“I like books.”

“Obviously.”

Khad shrugged, “Can’t it be as simple as that?”

Khad picked up a hefty book, with a thick, brown cover. Printed in aged and peeling gold font _A Collection of Works by F. Scott Fitzgerald._ He flips to a short story at random and starts reading. And Lothar is lost in the beauty of Khad’s narration. The way his voice dips and soars and changes ever so slightly when a character is speaking. Khad does not stutter, does not falter. Khad had a voice created for reading out loud.

He stopped, catching Lothar’s intense rapture. “Why- Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” Lothar shifted, resting his head on the worn arm on the couch, stretching his legs across Khad’s lap. He looked up at the ceiling just so he could stop staring at Khad. 

Khad sighed, “Never mind. You hungry?”

“Sure.”

“Good, I’m starved.” Khad shifted out from under Lothar’s legs and asked “How do you feel about pancakes?”


	5. "There doesn't seem to be anyone around"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prepare for the angst - and some nsfw stuff ;)

In the previous month, when Khad had stayed at Lothar and Taria’s apartment, Lothar had gotten familiar with Khad’s cooking habits. For example, the kid really liked humming whatever song was in his head, piecing in the lyrics every now and then. His voice wasn’t particularly graceful or soothing when it came to singing - completely _unlike_ his perfect, honey dripped reading voice - but it was decent and Lothar had gotten used to it. All of it. The way he sang and hummed, spin and swish ofhis hips in a half dance. He kind of, sort of, just a little bit, found it adorable.

And then, when February became March, Khad didn’t stay with Lothar and Taria as much. He slinked in and out as spring approached, getting ready for different concerts and festivals where he sold or traded his flower crowns. Lothar didn’t quite understand how Khad made any money but he didn’t ask about it - He could practically _feel_ how unwanted that conversation was. 

Waking up to the smell of bacon and the sound of off-key singing dwindled. Lothar found himself _missing_ Khad’s borderline obnoxious kitchen performances. So when Khad asked _‘How do you feel about pancakes?’_ Lothar had to stifle his excitement. 

Lothar simply shrugged. Unfeeling, noncommittal. Khad accepted that as a suitable answer. He drifted toward the record player and Lothar sat up, wondering what he would choose to hum along to. Lothar watched his fingers run back and forth across the sleeves of albums. He plucked one from the stack, slid the record out and placed it on the turntable. It spun idly before Khad touched the needle to the rigid vinyl.

“You are going to help me make the pancakes.” Khad announced as the music started (it was _The Beetles_ , or at least, Lothar was fairly sure it was). Then came the lyrics, _“Well, she was just seventeen, you know what I mean…”_ Khad shook his shaggy hair and then looked at Lothar. “Well, come on. Get up.”

“You’re bossy.” Lothar laughed, still half-baked. Khad rolled his eyes and scurried back to the couch, yanking at Lothar’s shirt. “Okay, okay.”

He let Khad pull him up and drag him to the kitchen. His hands were firm and warm on Lothar’s wrists. Khad twirled around the kitchen, ordering Lothar around: beat the eggs ( _No! Not like that, you barbarian. Gently._ ) and find the butter ( _It’s literally right in front of you. Top shelf. No, no - that one._ ). He hummed and tapped his foot as he mixed flour, salt and sugar. Lothar smiled. Smiled so hard that his cheeks hurt and he couldn’t remember ever liking being bossed around.

But then Khad would brush along side him and it was like Lothar’s body was set on fire. His skin flaking off and turning to ash. While they moved around each other in the kitchen, Lothar thought he saw flames flickering in the boy’s eyes. Lothar felt the heat of his breath.

He imagined that breath on his skin. Those lips against his. The fire igniting between them.

He needed a drink.

“Is there a liquor store nearby?” He asked as Khad drizzled the batter into a pan. Khad raised a brow at Lothar for a moment.

“You planning on having vodka with your pancakes?”

“I never got any beer at the party.” Lothar said.

Khad bit his lip and played with the spatula. He glanced at Lothar briefly and then back down. It was probably the weed, and the smell of the pancakes cooking, but with that quick look, Lothar couldn’t help but think that Khad’s eyes were the color of rich, thick maple syrup. The kind that poured lazily. His stomach flipped in time with the pancake.

“There’s one a block or two down and around the corner.” Khad finally said. “Do you want me to go with you?”

Lothar was already headed toward the door. “No. I’ll be back soon.”

 

* * *

 

Lothar was, in fact, not  _‘back soon’_ . Five and a half pancakes sat cool, and now probably rubbery. It would have been six if Khad hadn’t eaten half of one before realizing it wasn’t hunger that had his stomach in knots.

Khad was restless on the couch, thinking about lighting a joint just to calm his nerves. He played with his lighter and gnawed at his bottom lip, the delicate skin breaking. 

There were a few simple facts that were undeniable about Khad. He was a flower child who devoured books and tended to plants. He was against the war in Vietnam. He liked Taria.

He _more than liked_ Lothar.

The feeling of _more than like_ (He knew better than to call it anything else) spread across Khad’s chest and stomach, windy and powerful. It made Khad feel like an acrobat, a tightrope walker, a thin and taut wire stretched between him and Lothar. Every step he took had to be calculated, if he wanted to stay friends with the man.

It was anxiety inducing thing, _liking_ Anduin Lothar. Khad had _been with_ a fair amount of people - guys and girls he had met at parties or protests - but Lothar was special to him. Lothar wasn’t easy to like, not even a little bit. Every smile and laugh and touch that Khad earned from him felt like a strong breeze tangling his feet, tripping him on the wire. Ready to make him fall.

Lothar was hard metal where Khad was a messy knot of plant roots. He was manufactured by the government, Khad was a child of the earth. But Khad saw his steel rusting, peeling back and revealing a cacophony of emotions.

Khad thought back to the night he woke Lothar from his nightmare, when he first heard the cacophony. The whimpering and struggling and litany of _can’t save you_. The orchestrated sounds of war that left the soldier’s mouth.

It was either sheer luck or fate that Khad happened to be exiting the bathroom when he heard Lothar’s suffering. Sheer luck or fate that he happened to be there before Taria could even get up. 

Quietly, Khad slipped into Lothar’s room. The moon shining through the blinds glowed on Lothar’s sweaty brow. He flinched in his sleep. “Can’t save you…Can’t save you.”

Those words were private ones, not meant to be heard by Khad. Tentatively, whispered Lothar’s name, his hand stroked Lothar’s naked shoulder. He woke with startled eyes. That night, Khad held Lothar for a moment, wishing he could have held him forever. 

Khad flipped the lighter closed and stood. He had to bring Lothar back.

 

* * *

 

 

Lothar wasn’t hard to find, thank God. He was right where Khad had hoped he would be - slumped against the side of the liquor store. His head was hanging and he looked like he was on the verge of passing out. Limply in one hand Khad could see the glass lip of a bottle that was tucked into a paper bag. Too wide to be a beer bottle, which made Khad even more worried.

“Lothar,” Khad called as he approached the other man. He tried not to wince at the smell of whisky.

Lothar looked up, his head tilted to the side. “Khad…You came for me? Why would you come for me?” He looked at Khad with shining, confused eyes. 

Khad’s throat tightened, invisible fingers cinching around his neck. He hovered over Lothar for a moment before removing the bottle of half-empty bottle of whisky from his grip. He felt tears welling in his own eyes. “Of course I came for you.”

Khad wasn’t even sure if Lothar had heard him at all. If Lothar did, he certainly wasn’t saying anything about it. Khad helped Lothar onto his feet, the two of them stumbling and nearly falling.

Lothar looked at him with heavy lids. “You’re so pretty, Khad.” he mumbled. Khad couldn’t help but laugh, but it came out wrong and choked. Those invisible fingers still squeezed his neck.

“Wow, you’re really blitzed.” Khad said, wrapping an arm around Lothar’s torso. Lothar bore down on him, an arm resting on the tops of his shoulders. Khad tried not to crumble under the load. “Can you support any of your own weight?”

“You’re so pretty.” Lothar repeated, unhelpfully. 

It was a slow trudge back to Khad’s apartment. They stopped several times so Khad could readjust his grip or to heave Lothar back up from the ground. Khad was ready to pass out by the time they reached his door.

They tumbled inside. Messy, tripping over each other. Khad was panting, heavy against Lothar’s side. The bigger man wrapped an arm around Khad’s waist and refused to let go when Khad tried to shove him toward the couch.

“Don’t wanna sleep alone.” Lothar mumbled in Khad’s ear. Even though he shivered, the words still fell heavy on Khad’s shoulders. 

“I doubt you’ll feel that way in the morning.”

“Don’t make me sleep alone.” Lothar _begged_. It tore Khad’s heart in two, a rip right down the middle. He’d be surprised if his shirt wasn’t soaked in blood. He never wanted Lothar to sleep alone. He never wanted him to have another nightmare ever again. He wanted to kiss every scar, sooth every wound. “Please.”

Against his better judgement, Khad lead Lothar to the bedroom. They collapsed onto the mattress, a heap of limbs and sadness. Khad kicked off his shoes before helping Lothar out of his boots. Surprisingly, Lothar was able to remove his own shirt. And then Lothar’s hands drifted to his jeans, his fingers clumsy at the button. Khad looked away, but he could still hear the rough slide of denim on heavy, drunk legs. “Just, lay down Lothar. Go to bed.”

Khad decided he’d sleep clothed, it would make it easier to explain in the morning. He lay on his side, facing away from Lothar. Then there was a warmth all along his back. An arm wrapped around his stomach. Khad stopped breathing. “It’s okay, Khad.” Lothar mumbled. “It’s okay.”

It was a mockery of okay.

The entire night Khad stayed still, curled inside Lothar’s embrace. He didn’t stir, he didn’t shift, he didn’t move. Lothar’s breath came hot and heavy at his neck. And somehow, stiff as a board, he fell into a deep sleep.

When he opened his eyes in the morning, Lothar was gone. 

 

* * *

 

 

When Lothar woke up, two unfortunate facts stared him in the eyes. They smirked at him, they cackled. 

Unfortunate fact 1) He was experiencing one of the worst hangovers of his life. His head ached, his body throbbed. Even blinking was painful. And his entire being felt so unbelievably heavy, like he had swallowed lead instead of whisky.

Unfortunate fact 2) He wasn’t in his own bed, and he wasn’t alone. Normally, this wouldn’t be unfortunate except for the fact that Lothar was painfully aware of last night’s events. And now, as Lothar remembered the taste of begging, his nose was buried in Khad’s soft hair. Lothar’s arm was around Khad’s stomach. The boy was fully clothed, and embarrassingly, he was not. With hot cheeks, Lothar rolled out the bed and gathered his belongings.

Clothes tucked under one arm, opening the door while juggling boots - it must have been quite the sight. He gave one last look to the bed, memorizing Khad’s sleeping form. The subtle rise and fall of Khad’s side.

In the living room, Lothar stepped into his pants and struggled with his shirt. He had barely stepped into his shoes before he grabbed his keys and left. He ignored the scent of pancakes as they chased after him.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid,_ Lothar berated himself as he sped back to his apartment. The sun burned his skin, his eyes. It was a bright, blazing nail that pounded through his skull. He wanted just to dig a hole by the side of the road and sleep there forever.  _Stupid, stupid_ .

When Lothar did reach his apartment, Taria’s blue Bug was nowhere insight. _She’s just at work_ , Lothar told himself even though he knew that she didn’t work on Saturdays. 

He dug out his key avoided thoughts of Taria waking up in Garona’s bed. Garona’s wild mess of hair, Taria’s loose braids - _make it stop, make it stop_. Why would his sister keep this from him? Lothar squeezed his eyes shut and thought of anything else: pancakes, Khad’s eyes, motorcycles, whisky, maple syrup, Khad’s eyes, Khad’s eyes, Khad’s eyes.

Lothar unlocked the door and sighed. Khad’s delicious, wide eyes. Khad’s plump lips. Khad’s dark hair tickling his nose as they slept.

As he walked toward the bathroom, he rewrote history. In his revisionist mind Khad slept with his face buried in Lothar’s chest, placing sleepy kisses along his collar. They drifted in and out of consciousness together, smiling and holding onto each other. While he turned the knobs of the shower, Lothar imagined how Khad would yawn and stretch like a cat in the sun. How he might moan as he rubbed against Lothar. They were both hard.

Lothar pictured Khad with him in the shower. His pale skin dripping wet, water running over his nipples, down his chest. Lothar’s cock twitched.

Cool tile bit Lothar’s back as he leaned against it. He closed his eyes once more and wrapped his hand around the base of his cock. He squeezed, wanting to drag out this fantasy for as long as he could. It wasn’t his hand, no, it was Khad’s. Khad stroked him slowly, whispering filth into his ears.

Khad’s thumb ran across the head of Lothar’s cock. “Look at you, Corporal,” Khad would whisper, “All hot and bothered for me.” His hand traveled up and down as Khad plastered wet kisses to Lothar’s neck. “Want you in me, Lothar. Want to taste you.”

The pace quickened and Lothar bit his lip bruisingly hard. Lothar pictured Khad on his knees, taking in his length - eager and lusty. Those unbelievable lips wrapped around his cock. He could _hear_ Khad moan, he could feel the vibrations of it. Lothar fucked his fist pretending it was Khad’s mouth.

When he came, Khad’s name was on his lips. He opened his eyes to an empty shower and an empty feeling in his gut. He felt so stupid. Foolish and disgusting. He sat in the tub until the water ran cold. As if Khad would ever want someone so broken.


End file.
